Fluffy Stuffy 2
by musicalBlink
Summary: It's time for round two! The ship for this oneshot series is Dave/Karkat. The song is Demons by Imagine Dragons. Each line or two gets a oneshot. Suggestions are welcome if you have them. This will mostly go with the title and be cutesy fluff, but there is a chance I'll throw some sadstuck in there. T for language. Otherwise, it should be pretty clean, other than cuddles. CX
1. When The Days Are Cold

**Okay, so my other multi-chapter "Let's Read Homestuck" was deleted. For whatever reason, I feel weird not having two multichaps up. Therefore, I'm just gunna start this oneshot series off right now, despite the fact that I was originally going to wait for "Eridan's Ark" to be over first.**

**If you follow me, I'm sure you remember "Fluffy Stuffy", that pb&j oneshot series, right? It works just like that. One chapter for every one or two lines of the song Demons by Imagine Dragons. Expect mostly pointless fluff with a chance of sadstuck. This time, I'll be doing Dave/Karkat. Assume it's the stereotypical AU of the game being nonexistent and trolls and humans mingling on the same planet in peace, unless I specifically say otherwise. This should be fun. CX**

**Please review and shit!**

Karkat's POV

I wake up to the biting cold of shitty heating in the middle of winter. I'm curled up in a queen-sized bed to the far left side. My roommate and boyfriend of two years, Dave Strider, is in the middle of the bed, with the blanket partially on him and partially falling off the bed.

Shivering, I edge towards him with the plan to pull the blanket in a way that it will cover both him and myself. In my head, this is the perfect plan and will result in nothing but success. Naturally, I'm an idiot for even thinking that something as simple as moving a fucking blanket so I don't freeze to death could be easy.

First and foremost, I'm just barely too small to reach the blanket without somehow disturbing Dave. I remedy this easily enough by putting my hands on the opposite side of Dave. Clearly, this position is way more hazardous than something like getting the fuck off my ass and just walking around the bed and retrieving the blanket the way a reasonable person would, but it's worth not putting my already cold toes on the no doubt colder floor.

When I deem myself stable enough to continue with my blanket-grabbing ventures, I carefully lift my right hand off of the bed to reach for the rectangular source of warmth. This slight shift in weight is enough to make the blonde-headed human murmur in his sleep and roll towards my hand. I hold my breath, close my eyes, and hope he doesn't move again. One more movement on his part could send me toppling. No doubt he would wake up to the noise and see me sprawled out on the floor. I can't let something as stupid as that happen; he would never let me live it down.

After a full two minutes of silence, other than the sound of our breath and his slight, quiet snoring (he refuses to acknowledge any such accusations of snoring even though anyone who has been arround him while he's asleep knows he snores), I make my move. I slowly move my right hand towards the blanket, barely breathing and glancing at the taller boy underneath me every couple of seconds.

Thirty seconds of needlessly slow, quiet movement later, I manage to get a fistful of blanket. I try to pull it towards me, but it's caught on something. Carefully, I rely more on my arms so that I can peer over the edge of the bed. A small hole in the corner of the blanket is caught on the bed frame. Go fucking figure.

Seething, I lean dangerously farther forward. My breath catches in my throat as I feel myself start to plummet towards the floor. Luckily, I manage to catch myself on the side of the bed before I could collide headfirst with the floor. How in the everloving fuck am I supposed to get the blanket now? I'm not even entirely sure how to get up at all much less get warmer along the way.

I sigh deeply, attempting to inch my way back up the bed, praying Dave doesn't wake up. This is probably an even more ridiculous position than if I had just blatantly fallen. At least if I had fallen, I could have used the blanket on the floor as an excuse, but this? There was absolutely no excepatble way to explain it away as somehow being someone or something else's fault. It would all be on me.

Despite being certain I'd fail miserably, I manage to pull myself back onto the bed. I look at Dave to make sure he didn't wake up. As my shitty luck insists, ruby red eyes are blinking up at me in confusion.

An sleepy, unusually thick Texan accent meets my ears. "What're you doin'?"

I look at my hands, face slighlty flushing with embarassment. "Getting the fucking blanket. What else could I possibly be doing, dumbass?"

"Fuck this shit." he mumbles, clearly still tired.

He yanks me down on top of him, putting our faces mere inches apart. With his free hand, he grabs the blanket and pulls it until there's a distinct ripping noise breaking the silence. He tucks the blanket under us, and proceeds to cuddle into my side, nuzzling the top of his head into my neck. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him and his warmth closer to me. He entangles our legs in a way that makes it impossible for one of us to get up without the other's cooperation.

As I said, my plans to get the blanket are stupid. This is way better than stealing some dumb blanket. I have all the warmth I could possibly need.


	2. And The Cards All Fold

**An eleven year old boy is in my room continuously trying to explain Minecraft to me. Writing more fanfiction is my only excuse to not stand right next to him and politely listen to him while he explains gaming shit that I have no need or care for. I told him that I have lots of people following this story and that I haven't had a chance before just now to update it. Cuz, y'know, y'all are definitely upset that I haven't updated despite the fact that I only started the story recently.**

**Scratch that. He has just informed me that he is nine years old, not eleven.**

**I am a disgusting person, and I'm going to hell. X_X**

Dave's POV

_"Man, I'm as fresh and cool as a cucumber. All them other veggies be hatin' on me cuz I'm so much fresher and cooler than them. But deep inside, those other veggies know I'm the best. They're like 'yo, dog, that's one cool cucumber'. That's why they leave me alone: they know I'm too fucking cool and fresh for them. So, it's not that I avoid the parties cuz I don't wanna go. It's cuz nobody there is worthy of my presence. You feel me, John? Like, a movie star wouldn't up and go to some lame ass little kid's party, so why the fuck should I? You don't want the paparazzi up on me, do you, Egderp?"_

_"Dave, that's a stupid excuse, even for you. Now come on! You've lived here in Washington for three years. What are you so afraid of? It's not even a huge party. You'll probably know half the people there, if not more."_

_"What even is the point of bringing me to one of your boring parties if you're just gunna leave the coolest kid in the room all on his lonesome so that you can go talk to one of your dork brethren?"_

_"Aww! Does wittle Davey need somebody to hold his hand?"_

_"What? No, man, that's not even-"_

_"Then why not?! You don't even have to admit to having a good time! Just come and chill or whatever it is cool kids do."_

_"Do I have to?"_

_"Yes. Go get dressed. You can't go to a party in your boxers."_

_"Ugh, fine."_

* * *

I watch, not even slightly uncomfortable or annoyed at all, as John drifts into the Red Sea of people with a bucktoothed smile plastered on his face in a way that has to hurt within moments of our arrival. Sighing, I drift over to the drinks table and grab a Coca Cola. This is going to be _tons_ of fun.

I slowly walk from room to room to pass the time, sipping my drink as I go. John was right: I see plenty of people I know. That is, if you consider anyone you met at least once as being someone you "know". The next half hour of the party proves to be just as disappointing as the first two minutes were. The most interesting thing that happens is that I, the valiant knight, save Princess Dorito and several of her sisters from the snack table.

After a while, I start to hear a slightly more prominent commotion from the dining room. I follow the noise to find John and the grouchiest of his friends, Karkat Vantas, playing a game of cards. They're clearly arguing over something.

"Yo, what's happenin', Egderp?" I greet.

Upon seeing me, his eyes light up like a crazy mass murderer when they see they're weapon of choice. "Dave! I'll bet Dave."

I raise an eyebrow questioningly, but I'm beat to the punch of questioning this by an especially small troll. "Wait, since when do you even fucking know that guy? Do you not realize that he is the most insufferable douche on the entire fucking planet? The fuck do you think I even want to own that guy for twenty-four hours for?"

"It doesn't matter." John says, grinning. "I'm going to win anyways."

"You are not! Clearly my skills are far more superior than your pathetic lack of brains. I swear you are so fucking stupid; you're as stupid as, if not stupider than, a pink monkey." Karkat sputters out angrily.

John giggles. "And you're as intelligent as an adorable little kitten."

This guy is obviously seething. Though it's plenty of fun to watch such a little guy scream so loud for practically no reason, I'm still oddly curious about exactly what the fuck it is that makes John think he has the right to bet with me. "Hey, so, what exactly are a couple of derps like you doing?"

Karkat opens his mouth, no doubt to make some kind of raunchy retort to me calling him a derp, but John slaps a hand over his mouth before he can."We're playing rummy. The first person to reach 500 points wins."

"So what exactly does your card game have to do with me"

"For each round, each person has to bet something of similar or equal worth. He bet Terezi for twenty-four hours, now I'm betting you."

"Uh huh." _Stay calm, Strider. _"And you didn't think that there might be any chance that I would like to not be betted with?"

"It's not even that big of a deal, Dave. I am boss at rummy."

Behind my shades, I glance around at the expectant faces all around and internally sigh. "Okay, but if you lose I'm going to kick your ass."

* * *

John is awful at rummy. All in all, he lost thirty bucks, all of his Nic Cage movies, me, and his dignity.

Karkat and John came to the agreement that John could have his Nic Cage movies back immediately because "what even kind of moronic retard would want to be stuck with such gogawful cinematic failures anyways?"

On the other hand, they had decided that Karkat "owns" me for a full twenty-four hours. This gives him the right to put down any rules he wants, and I have to follow them. If I break any of his rules, I will continue to belong to Karkat for the next twenty-four hour period on top of the original time. This means I have to do _anything _he wants.

In all honesty, I find myself especially nervous that he's going to make this sexual. He's not exactly a gentle person, so I doubt that he would just make me do chores around his dorm. Really, what else is there that he would want to make me do? The contemplative look on his face and the glances towards me as he's driving us to his dorm does absolutely nothing for my imagination.

Despite my misgivings, all he does when we arrive is tell me to go to sleep because he will be waking me up early. So, I crawl into bed with minimal complaints without bothering to strip to my boxers or set my shades aside the way I usually would.

* * *

At 7:15 AM, I wake up to a slightly rough shaking. "Strider. Dumbass. Get up. Gog, you sleep like a fucking rock."

I smirk slightly, eyes still closed behind askew shades. "Last time I checked, rocks don't even sleep."

I hear a low growl of annoyance. "Fuck you. It's too early for your idiotic babbling."

"I would have thought you'd want to fuck last night, not now, early in the morning, when any reasonable person would be sleeping."

I crack an eye open to see him blushing fiercely. "What even makes you think I'd want to have sex with some insufferable douchenozzle like you? You would probably do something really stupid like rap right in the fucking middle of it."

"Oh, you think about this a lot, huh, Karkat?" I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively, though they barely make it above my shades.

"No! Jegus fuck, just shut up!"

"So you'd rather fuck with Jegus?"

He facepalms. "You are impossible."

"No, I'm Kim Possible."

"It is officially against the rules for you to spew anymore bullshit from your mouth until further notice."

I let my smirk fade to neutrality. "Aw, you're no fun, Karkles."

"Strider, what did I just fucking say?"

I sigh, but don't press my luck any further than that. No need to get myself into any trouble this early in.

* * *

I get the wrinkles out of my clothes with my hands the best I can before going to Karkat's car with him. We go to my house first so that I can change into something presentable: black jeans with holes in the knees, red converse, a t-shirt with a gear on it, and a red hoodie. Karkat demanded I change my pants. He doesn't consider that as being good enough for whatever he has planned, and refused to be seen in public with me dressed like that. Whatever. I'm pretty sure he was just looking for something to bitch about.

We get back in his car and drive off to a destination he refuses to disclose to me.

"Are we there yet?"

"No"

"Are we there yet?"

"No"

"Are we there yet?"

"Didn't I say you couldn't fucking talk?"

I playfully pretend to think about that, rubbing at my sadly hairless chin. "No, for the life of me, I can't remember any such thing."

"Well, I'm reminding you right fucking now. That I most certainly did tell you to shut your trap so that you don't poison the world with your idiocy."

I scrutinize him as obviously as I can with my shades on. "Hm..."

"What?" He snaps self-consciously.

"You look awfully tired. Maybe you should let me drive. After all, we can't be having you fall asleep while you're driving. Turn us into a Volvo pretzel around a tree or some shit."

"We are in a shit-assed, fifty year old pickup truck, not a fucking Volvo. And... Was that a Twilight reference?"

"Shit. No."

"'If you turn us into a Volvo pretzel around a tree trunk you could probably just walk away.' Bella said it. Oh my fuck," He laughs lightly. "Are you seriously...?"

One glance at my flushing face leaves him giggling like a hyena. "Fuck you, man."

Eventually, he gets a hold of himself and pushes that open smile back into his usual slight scowl. I find myself frowning a little. Even though he was laughing at my expense, I had actually really liked seeing him laugh. I silently vow to make him laugh and smile that openly again before the end of his ownership over me.

"So, where exactly are we going anyways? The moon? Over the rainbow? Canada?"

"Well, I've been awake for more than two hours now, so I was going to grab something to eat."

"Cool. Where to?"

"Something fast. I'll probably end up going to a McDonald's and filling my fucking arteries with death-inducing salt."

"Sounds like fun, Karkles. We shall die side by side from the terrible sodium chloride."

I strike a dramatic pose and smirk as a small smile twitches at the side of his mouth.

* * *

McDonald's fucked up his order. They gave him a bacon McGriddle with no egg. I gave him some from mine, because neither of us gave enough shits to bother storming McD's for some egg.

As soon as we had the food, we continued to drive off to where ever the fuck it is we're going. I can't help but think that his slightly more friendly than usual behavior is proof that he's feeling guilty for whatever it is he's got planned. The farther we drive, the more worried I become.

Of course I don't let that show though. Can't let the princess know that the knight is getting nervous... Wait, where the fuck did that come from? Ugh. This is so stupid.

To distract myself from these thoughts, I look out the window and attempt to find a familiar landmark. No luck. We're more than half an hour out in a direction I had never had to go in before. Maybe Dirk's boyfriend had a point when he said it's best to explore the area around you. Karkat could be dropping me off in the middle of a desert to die all alone, and I wouldn't know it until it was too late. On the other hand, even if I did know where we were going for a fact, there isn't much of anything I could do to stop us from arriving anyways. Damn I hate surprises.

Despite my treacherous expectations, we pull into the parking lot of a gorgeous park with a playground, pond, and nature trails. I blankly watch as Karkat climbs out of the car like this is the most natural thing in the world. After he gives me an odd look for not getting out immediately, I climb out of the pickup truck, slamming the door behind me.

"So," I start awkwardly. "A park."

"No shit, douchenozzle. Where the fuck did you think we were going?" He's contemplative for a moment before allowing a nearly nonexistent grin onto his face. "The moon? Over the rainbow? Canada?"

I chuckle and try to play it off as nothing, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he saw through that to the truth, considering the hurt frown on his face.

"I'm not that bad," he mutters, before walking off to the playground.

* * *

Even though it was a bumpy start, we had lots of fun. No one wants to leave even though we've been here for more than three hours. We went to the pond to visit the baby ducks and their mother. We walked up and down and all around on the nature trails, getting lost sixteen times. We played on the playground, but only after we terrorized the kids at the playground. Thinking back on it, that was really mean of us. I feel no guilt whatsoever. After Karkat proved his manliness by squealing like a two-year old girl, he allowed me to push him on the swing, "but not that fucking hard! fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck- eeeeeeeekkkkkk!". I even managed to get him to climb a tree! Granted, he couldn't get down on his own once he was up... But it was all in good fun.

If Bro had seen how much I have smiled today, I have no doubt he would give me shit about this day for the rest of my life. And you know what? I'm okay with that.

After having such a great time at the park, I'm not nearly as reluctant to get into the car and go with what Karkat had planned. I climb into the passenger seat and watch him expectantly. He rolls his eyes at my eagerness and goes straight to the trunk. He pulls out a picnic basket, not some makeshift thing, an actual picnic basket with the checkered blanket on top and everything.

I chuckle. "I'm going to have to tell John he can bet with me all he wants."

A snort of derision and a roll of eyes on Karkat's part. I've come to the conclusion that that's kind of like his smile/laugh. "Yeah, so maybe I'm not being too much of an ass. What in the everloving fuck makes you think someone else would be this merciful to you, Strider? Besides, it's not too late for me to change my mind."

"Yeah, cuz you've totes proven that you are an extraordinarily cruel person. Like seriously, what kind of awful person makes someone go to a park? You're mind is a particular brand of twisted, Karkles."

"Damn straight. I am fucking bloodthirsty. I'm just beefing you up for the terrible things to come." Another thing: the more relaxed he becomes, the more he shows that he actually _is_ capable of having a sense of humor.

We walk to a patch of grass in the sunlight and set out the blanket. I ironically act like a butler and put the food out. When we sit down to eat, we're sitting at entirely opposite sides of the blanket, but somehow we end up sitting shoulder to shoulder by the time we finish eating. Neither of us really cares to leave anytime soon, and Karkat says nothing pressing is on his mental agenda for another hour, so we relax on the blanket.

I discover great joy in teasing him. He just so happens to be sincerely adorable when he's annoyed or, at least, when he's pretending to be. Of course, I'm never going to say that. Hell, I never even really talked to the guy before today. It would be insane to start calling him adorable all of a sudden...  
With that in mind, I should probably stop calling him adorable inside of my own thoughts.

Around two of the clock, Karkat reluctantly says we need to leave. I consider attempting to persuade him to just chill at the park, but, in the end, I just give a swift nod and go to the pickup truck with him, still talking as we go. The conversation fades off into mostly comfortable silence, but after a while something off about the entire thing starts to nip at the back of my mind.

"Hey, Karkat?"

"What the fuck do you want, assmuncher?"

"To munch your ass." I deadpan, not meaning a single word.

Nonetheless his face becomes a bright red. "Shut up!"

I smirk. "I'm just teasin' you, man. I was actually gunna ask if your CD player was broken or some shit."

"Oh," he says. "No, it's not broken. What's it matter?"

"I just thought it was kind of odd since most people be listenin' to sick jams in the car, and you haven't had music playing in the car all day."

"I just didn't think you'd really like my kind of music." he says vaguely, pointedly looking at the road ahead instead of at me.

"What is it, screamo?"

He scoffs. "What kind of dipshit listens to some guy scream that he hates his dad or something in exchange of actual cultured music?"

"Honestly, I thought you'd be that kind of dipshit."

He just rolls his eyes without a word.

"So, what kind of music do you listen to?"

"None of your fucking business."

"Everything is my business. It's practically my job to know everything. Somebody call me up and be like 'yo, who's that guy', and I'd be like, 'oh, that guy? yeah, that's Mr. Herp Derp'. See what I mean, Karkles?"

"No wonder you're such a fucking idiot. You use the few brain cells you have to make up stupid names like that."

"But seriously though. What kind of music is it? It can't be that bad."

He silently looks ahead. Once it's clear that he has no intentions of answering, I take matters into my own hands and play the CD he has in his CD player. Soft, soothing music pours out of the somewhat staticy speakers. We listen in silence for a few moments.

"Bach's flute sonata... in e minor, right?" I ask tentatively as we pull into a parking lot.

He turns to look at me, jaw dropped. "How in the everloving fuck would a moronic dipshit like you know that? I thought you listened to that obnoxious rap shit."

"And I thought you listened to screamo. What exactly is your point?"

"Why the fuck does your car always sound like nothing but base then?"

"It's for the ironies. With the base turned up that high, no one would ever suspect that I'm listening to classical. It's pretty damn funny to screw with people about stuff like that. Like, I'll say I really like a rap artist, but I'll be making up the name. Then, the person I'm talking to says he likes that rapper too even though he obviously has no idea who the fuck it is that I'm talkin' 'bout. It is so fucking funny." I say, grinning broadly.

He smirks slightly. "That's so stupid."

"Then, why are you smiling?" I say smiling wider.

His smirk widens into a small smile. "Why are you smiling?"

All of a sudden, I notice that our faces are kind'a sort'a getting really close. So close that if I lean just a bit closer, I could-

**_BEEPBEEP_**

Karkat pulls back, startled by the sudden loud noise erupting from my pocket.

I sigh. "Sorry,"

I pull out my phone to see I've received a text from John. _You alive?_

_Yeah, man. It's totes chill. But I'm busy, so go away._

_Wow. And I thought I was being nice and giving you a break from whatever it is._

_It's fine, but you're gunna get me in trouble, kay?_

_Oh, okay. Well I'll see you tomorrow I guess. :B_

I put my phone away, not bothering to answer. Looking back up at Karkat reveals that his little smile has been replaced with a much more neutral expression.

"So," I start. "What're we going to do here? You gonna go on a shopping spree and have the man carry all your baggies?"

"And what the fuck are you implying with that?"

"Absolutely nothing, Karkles." I smile innocently.

He grumbles under his breath, but doesn't reply to my playful teasing in any purposeful way. Instead, he gets out of the car, uselessly slamming the door behind him. I get out as well and walk side by side with him up to the entrance of the mall. Rather than go into a store, he leads me to the small movie theater in the mall. I raise an eyebrow, but he says nothing in return.

He speaks through the glass to a troll with a cowlick. "Can I get two tickets to the Fault in Our Stars."

The guy looks between the two of us and snickers. The guy has a pretty obnoxious lisp. "Theriouthly?"

Karkat glares at him. "What? Are you such an idiotic nooksniffer that you have a problem with two guys going to see a fucking movie? Because if you do, you need to get a new job because you're clearly not cut out for something as strenuous as selling two movie tickets. Do we need to-"

"Holy fuck. Chill your thit. You guyth jutht look like a really weird couple ith all."

"Woah." I speak up. "Who even says we're a couple? We could just be a couple of bros, chillin'."

"Yeah, and watching romantic tradgedieth together. Totally." he says sarcastically.

I'm about to defend myself further when the guy interrupts me. "Look. I honethtly have no thitth to give what you guyth do. Okay?" he says taking out two tickets to the movie. "That'll be fifteen twenty."

Karkat pulls out his wallet, but I swiftly step in front of him and pay before he can. He gives me a "what the fuck" face. "You payed for breakfast and gas throughout today, and I don't even know what the fuck it is that's happening after this. You're not going to pay for everything today."

He shakes his head. "Have I ever informed you that you're an insufferable prick?"

"You might've." I say, smirking.

We walk into the theater after getting popcorn and two small drinks.

I hear the lispy bastard at the counter say we're a weird couple once more.

* * *

I try to watch the movie. I really do. But this is way beyond the kind of movie I'd normally watch, and I just can't seem to get into it the way I can with most movies. Instead, I find myself watching Karkat. I'm not even watching the screen or listening to the actors speak their lines, because Karkat's face is so much more expressive than anything the actors could pull off. Now, I see why he got the Twilight reference, because he seems to be really into romances in general.

He cries several times throughout the movie, glancing over at me out of the corner to make sure I didn't see him wiping his tears away. I pretend not to notice despite the fact that I'm actually staring right back at him every time he looks over at me. Thank God for shades.

We have an awkward movie date moment... more or less. We both reach for the popcorn at the same time and touch hands. Except instead of holding hands with me, Karkat pulls his hand back like it was hit with lightning and flushes such a deep red that it can be seen even in the dark of the movie theater. After that, neither of us tries to get any popcorn. We both sit with our hands in our laps.

I think it's safe to say we're both glad when the movie ends at about five of the clock. We leave as soon as the credits start to roll, not waiting for the general rush of people leaving that was sure to come within a minute or two.

We go to the car at a semi-relaxed pace. When we get in, neither of us minds the soft music that automatically starts to play when the car is started. I lose myself in the music and thoughtlessly stare out the window, watching the trees whip past us.

The silence goes on for a full ten minutes until Karkat speaks. "You play?"

"Huh?" I ask intelligently.

"You were playing piano in your lap. I was curious if you actually play or..." I look down and realize that I was unconsciously playing along with the song (Bagatelle No. 25 in a minor).

I turn my carefully posed hands into fists in my lap. "I play a little, but not all that great." I chuckle. "Definitely not anywhere near as good as John or anything."

A snort of derision. "John is majoring in music, so I think that's a pretty stupid comparison to begin with."

I shrug, not really wanting to continue the conversation anyways. I think he understands that, because he doesn't press the subject any further. Nonetheless, I see him occasionally glance at me out of the corner of his eye to see if I'll do it again, but I don't. We arrive at our destination too quickly for that.

* * *

I look around in barely suppressed childish glee. We're at a carnival of sorts with rides, games, and a guaranteed good time. We enter the carnival like a couple of little kids, vowing to win every game and ride every ride in sight.

We start with a ring toss. I manage to get a ring around one of the bottles close to the one in the center, so I have a choice of several smaller prizes. I choose a cute crab plushie and give it to Karkat, joking that it reminds me of him. He rolls his eyes and does a half-assed job of insulting me back, but nonetheless holds the crab like it's something special.

Next, we go on the merry go round, because fuck yes. I haughtily declare myself the bestest knight in the multiverse as I ride my stallion proudly. I strike a pose and imagine myself with a misplaced red cape flapping in the wind behind me as I hold my sword high. Karkat pushes me off the hot pink horse with a bow in its mane as the ride comes to a stop and calls me a dork. I merely grin at him.

We stumble across one of those things where you slam a hammer down to test your strength. Both Karkat and I participate. I reach about two thirds of the way up to "NOT BAD, BUT NOT HERO MATERIAL EITHER". Whatever. Karkat almost rings the bell, but comes a few inches short. He demands a retry until the guy running it get's tired of hearing him and let's him try again. This time it rings loudly and slams back down. The lanky man looks rather startled as he lets Karkat get a prize. He chooses an enormous pink unicorn plush and gives it to me, saying I can act like the dork I am whenever I want to. I tell him I have every intention of doing so, but only if he will come be a dork too. He says he might be able to handle that. _Maybe._

It's nearing six of the clock, and the sun is starting to set. Karkat demands we go on the ferris wheel to catch a better look of it. I agree, and we race to the ferris wheel. I win the race, but it doesn't much matter. The wait for the ferris wheel is _at least_ five minutes long anyways. We pass the time with silly banter, making the people around us give us odd looks. We just make jokes about them, which makes them look away very quickly. Neither of us have even realized the time passing. When it's our turn, we hop into our car of the classic ride and strain our necks to see the sunset over the trees. Once it's in sight, we sit down, knees bumping into each other.

"You know," I say only half jokingly. "This feels like a date."

He looks at me, annoyance on his face. "Will you take off those gogdamned glasses off for a moment?"

"Why?"

"Because I can't tell if you're joking or not."

I scoot forwards a little bit. "And what if I'm not?"

"Then prove it."

I lean forward a bit more and kiss him. I am fully aware that this is the stupidest movie cliché in existence kissing at the top of a ferris wheel at the sun's set- but I fail to give any shits. This is probably the most unironically awesome moment of my entire life. Seeing his red eyes lit up with the sunset and happiness and the smile that shyly spreads on his face when I pull back- there's nothing better than this.

**Holy fuck. 5,000 words. WAY longer than I meant for it to be. **

**By the way, I have special people who deserve glomps and digital cookies: Zuckerwatte (Guest), MimiKeehl-Jeevas, Izzytail, Light Brown Shoes, and Sebby'sClosetKitten.**


	3. The Saints We See Are All Made Of Gold

**It is the fourth of July and my eye is twitching as explosions go off everywhere giving me the most severe sensory overload ever. I am combating this by closing all curtains, putting my back to the windows, listening to Beethoven's Fur Elise as loud as I can without Ma flipping out, and writing more fanfiction.  
****Is this shitty excuse for a holiday over yet?**

**So, this one is a typical zombie apocalypse AU. Anything else that you need to know can be gotten from the oneshot itself.**

Karkat's POV

I breathe heavily through my mouth as I run, a backpack strapped to my shoulders. Zombies seem to be coming from all sides, but I barrel through them despite they're grabbing. I slice through the ones within arms length with my sickles in the hopes of making a dent in the swarming mass of zombies. The moans and garbled groans of the undead drown out everything except for my own heart beat.

They're starting to become too much for me. I desperately swing my sickles around me, praying it'll be enough to fend them off, even if for just a moment. The will to live is stronger than ever, yet the chances of that will being strong enough seem lower than ever. There's too many of them, too many of them for me to stand a chance.

In moments like this, it seems perfectly reasonable to say that any good that was once in this world is long gone. Most of the time, it seems that way: like there's no hope, no reason left to fight. Yet, against all odds, there's still one more spark of hope, one more reason to live. That reason to live is currently sprinting towards me, katana in hand.

He immediately starts to lob off the heads of the zombies closest to me so that I have enough room to fight properly. We twist and turn around each other to kill and defend. For the most part, we stay back to back, dispatching the zombies one by one. On multiple occasions, he's joked that this is our dance, our song, but I've never found it all that amusing.

Once it's safe to do so, we return to our base of sorts, an abandoned, two-story ranch house in a rural area of South Carolina. We climb up the ladder leading to the second floor window. We had destroyed the indoor staircase to make the house easier to defend. Upon entering, I collapse onto the couch in the corner of the room, sweat dripping down my forehead. The man sits down next to me and takes a deep breath.

He awkwardly grabs over the arm of the couch and brings up a bottle of water, offering it to me. I graciously take a swig before handing it back to him. He has a drink of water as well before closing the bottle back up and putting it in its place.

I grudgingly get up and rag the ladder inside. I close and lock the window as well. We decide to make a rare exception to our usual rule of only one person sleeping at a time in favor of us both taking naps right away since it was obvious neither of us was actually going to be able to stay awake for a full watch anyways. We're both hot and sticky, but neither of us cares as we cuddle side by side, skin sticking together in unsavory ways.

* * *

I wake up alone, surprisingly chilly. I look around for the source of the chill to find the window open.

Panic surges through me. Did he leave while I was sleeping. I call out for him, trying to not sound too scared right off the back.

"Sup, Kitkat," he says as he casually strolls into the room.

"Why the fuck is the window open? For fuck's sake, I thought you'd left or some shit, dumbass."

"I did for a little bit, but I've been back for a while now."

"What! What were you thinking? You shouldn't go out on your own. What if something had happened, and I wasn't there?"

"Chillax. Everything is perfectly fine."

"Perfectly fine? How in the everloving fuck can you possibly draw a conclusion like that when we're basically doomed to fucking die?"

"Because. I've got this."

He shows me a small battery run CD player. He goes off to the side of the room. After he presses various buttons, a waltz begins to play. He stiffly walks over to me and offers a hand.

"May I have this dance?"

Tentatively, I put my hand in his, and we dance.

We are absolutely dreadful. Constantly stepping on each other's toes and simply making up dance moves as we go, we must look like a train wreck waiting to happen. Despite the clear flaws in our method, the dance is perfect- to me at least. It's amazing to lose myself in the music and my dancing partner.

Sometimes, it seems perfectly reasonable to say that any good that was once in this world is long gone. Most of the time, it seems that way: like there's no hope, no reason left to fight. Yet, against all odds, there's still one more spark of hope, one more reason to live. That reason to live is my most trusted friend and lover, Dave Strider, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

**I'm not sure exactly what this is? Not fluff, but not the potential sadstuck I warned might happen, so... :/**


	4. When Your Dreams All Fail

**I have nothing to put up here, but there needs to be something in bold or else my writing looks weird to me.**

Dave's POV

I remember meeting him like it was yesterday. I was twelve years old. I had just moved, so I didn't know anyone, which was fine, because I was perfectly chill and cool on my own. I didn't need to hang out with anyone or any of that shit. I was better off on my own anyways, or so I thought.

Well, anyways, the day my older Bro and I arrived at our new apartment, we had a little bit of an argument, and Bro got pretty fucking pissed at me, so I hightailed it the fuck outta there, running as fast as I could. We both know damn well that he could have easily caught me if he wanted to, but I'm pretty sure his original intentions were to make me leave. So, I was running and running, but I had to stop because my lungs were coming to the point where they were starting to forget that it's their job to bring air into my body so I can do totally awesome stuff like breathe. I had to stop or else I'm pretty sure my lungs would've been like "nope, fuck you" and exploded. I sat with my back to a tree and took the time to breathe.

A voice called from above me. "What the fuck are you doing?"

I looked up and saw an awfully scrawny troll. He was wearing an oversized sweater with baggy, grey jeans. At first glance, I assumed he was probably about eight years old. The I got to wondering what even an eight year old was doing dropping the F bomb... or hiding in a tree by himself.

"What are _you_ doing?" I asked right back.

"None of your gogdamned business!" he yelled. With that he retreated back to the branches above me. I thought that was one weird ass little kid, but I didn't do much to figure out who he was.

The next day, however, I learned that the eight year old I met at the park was actually twelve, and that his name was Karkat Vantas. That boy was told to take me from class to class throughout the day, because our schedules were nearly identical.

He made it clear that he thought I was an "insufferable prick" from the very start. I wasn't really sure what I had done wrong, but he always seemed really paranoid around me, like he was expecting me to throw a fist in his face. I couldn't imagine why: after actually talking to him, he seemed like a pretty cool guy. Slowly, we became pretty close friends. We were those two guys where no one would mention one without mentioning the other. It just wasn't heard of.

I also learned that the reason that he started off so paranoid of me was because he was being pretty severely bullied. Like, beat-the-shit-out-of-you-for-existing kind of bullying. The first time I saw someone hurting him, I completely fucking lost it. I knocked the shit out of that guy. He went home crying, and I got suspended for a week. I didn't give a shit; I'd have readily done it again- and I did. People learned to respect him.

Over the years, our friendship only gre stronger. God knows we acted like assholes around each other, but at the end of the day we were best bros, and nothing could change that. We were entirely inseparable; we did everything together. Sure, over the years we gainer our own respective friends and circles of friends, but we would still choose each other over our other friends.

In middle school, the beginnings of a crush started to emerge. By the time high school rolled around, I was pretty sure I was in love, like the real deal, get down on one knee and fucking propose already. But I didn't say a single damn thing. I was scared to death that if I said anything that he would hate me. Best bros aren't supposed to want to kiss each other senseless and hold hands in the park; best bros are supposed to fist bump and play video games.

Luckily, he ended up asking me out, so I wasn't doomed to loneliness for my entire life. We had the sort of relationship where nothing changed between us except that there was more kissing and stuff like that. But we didn't become that couple where everyone wonders why friendship was so easy but a relationship was doomed to ruin everything. We were still best bros, closer than ever.

And now? Now we're all grown up. We share an apartment a lot like the one I lived in with Bro. We've been together for four years, and I can't imagine finding anyone on the planet I'll ever care for more than Karkat. I am unconditionally and unironically in love with him.

That's why I'm going to propose to him tonight. We just finished a moderately fancy dinner out, and now we're heading towards the park where we first met. He doesn't know it yet, but I'm going to propose to him underneath the very tree we met in, the same tree we carved our initials into and claimed as our own. We're driving there right now in my bright red beetle.

I pull up to a red light, and demand a "redlight special" from Karkat. He rolls his eyes, but leans over and kisses me anyways. The light turns green to soon, and I pull out into the intersection.

An ear shattering crash comes from Karkat's side of the car. Chaos ensues: we flip sideways, glass shatters from all sides, horns are honking, people are screaming, blood is running down my face into my eye. More important than any of that is the pained shriek coming from my right.

A surging pain erupts from my skull, but somehow I manage to undo my seatbelt as well as Karkat's. I drag him out of the car, not having enough strength within me to carry him so that he doesn't drag through the shattered glass. I collapse to the ground, still clinging to my lover for dear life, with a sudden, extreme wave of vertigo.

A small whimper comes from the mangled body in my arms. I pet his hair and shoosh him, not knowing what else to do. He looks so broken and afraid. I just hold him closer and tighter with an odd hope that that will somehow hold him together and fix him. He looks up at me with fear filled eyes, and I nearly break down right then and there.

"Fuck," I say in a raspy voice that sounds alien to my own ears. "Karkat, don't die. Don't die, okay?"

He doesn't reply in any way other than a sharp breath.

"Look, Karkat, if you stay alive, we'll get married." I hastily pull out the ring I had handpicked for him. "Would you like that?"

Nothing.

"Karkat, I'm a little bit dizzy right now, so I'm not so sure I can stand on one knee and shit like they do in the movies, but I can the ring on your finger. All you have to say is 'I do'. You also have to stay awake."

Nothing.

"Karkat, speak to me."

Nothing.

"Karkat, please, please don't fucking leave me. You can't fucking leave me. You can't!"

Somebody starts to try to pull me away from his limp bopdy, but I thrash out at the person with a strength I didn't know I had in me and cling to my dead lover tighter than before.

"Please, please, please, I love you. Fuck I love you so much. Please stay alive. Stay alive PLEASE."

Nothing.

All of my dreams gone with one man. Dreams built up over years and years, knocked to nothing in mere moments. This shouldn't be possible, yet somehow it is. Everything I had hoped for: love, marriage, and maybe even some adopted kids- all gone beyond the point of return.

I sob quietly into my dream's shoulder, and wish all of this horror away. Of course, it doesn't work. It never does, does it? We're all left with whatever terrible things the world throws at us, usually with no way of changing it.

**How could I not sadstuck with a song line like this?**

**Anywho, I have a special person who deserves glomps and digital cookies: Black Nostalgia.**


	5. The Ones We Hail Are The Worst Of All

**Sup, motherfuckers? I know it's been longer than what is normal, and I'd like to formally blame Tumblr for being an addicting Lil Shit.**

**On that note, how bout we list some special people who deserve glomps and digital cookies: MimiKeehl-Jeevas (Guest), CathrineTheAssasin, Hurohana806, Yami Ryo, and Fatal Tendencies.**

**MimiKeehl-Jeevas: I warned ya, bro. I warned ya there'd be occasional sadstuck. I mean come on. "When your dreams all fail". How the fuck do you make _that _fluffy? Anywhore, this chapter will be happier, so don't worry, bro. I'll fix those feels of yours. C:**

**By the by, this one is on the meteor. Have fun, kiddies. :)**

Karkat's POV

I'm sitting at my grubtop taking care of my leaderly responsibilities (mostly just arguing with the fucking idiot of a troll I was an hour and a half ago). I'm not bothering anyone in the room besides myself, yet, lo and behold, here comes that insufferable douchebag, Strider, to piss on my already pissed parade.

"Yo," he says, standing behind me, reading over my shoulder like the nosy son of a bitch he is. "Arguing with yourself again, huh?"

I make a snap decision to just ignore him. Eventually he'll have to get bored with making an ass of himself and go work on one of his shitty comics or go bug the mayor for the billionth time. Honestly, I feel kind of bad for the little guy; Strider is even further up that guy's ass than mine.

"Karkat," He leans on the back of my spiny chair, making it tip back haphazardly. I force myself to act like it doesn't feel like I'm about to land flat on my ass.

"Karkles, bro. KK? Kitkat. Karkitty. Mr. Beep Beep Meow? Vantass? Vanpiss?" Nope. I do _not _have the patience for his bull shit right now. As if sensing this, he leans more heavily on the back of my chair to the point of draping himself over my shoulders. I grit my teeth and pretend that he doesn't even fucking exist. _There's no such thing as Striders. There's no such thing as Striders. There's no such thing as Striders._

"Duuuuuuuuuuude," He drawls out in that obnoxious accent of his. Nope. Nope. Nope. Not happening. Not happening. Not happening.

He then takes my lack of response as an incentive to sit his bony ass down in my lap and throw his legs over the arm of my chair where my left arm is resting. Damn it. I _know _he's doing this shit on purpose. I fucking _*know* _it, so why the fuck can't I just ignore it. I do my best to hide the annoyance on my face, but I don't think it actually works.

He starts to repeatedly poke my cheek, saying one of those idiotic nicknames with each poke. After this tactic of assholery proves inefficient, he just starts putting his cute face with freckles dusting his cheeks, a little button nose, and- fuck. That is not the way to be thinking right now. That is not even CLOSE to the way I should be thinking right now. He is an obnoxious little shit, and I want to knock those fucking glasses right off his gogdamn face, and kiss him, and wait. Fuck. That's not right either.

The closer his face gets to mine the more it short circuits, and the more I find myself thinking things that I really don't want to acknowledge at all. He's so close I can see the outline of his eyes behind his heavily tinted shades. It's basically impossible to ignore him at this point, and I can tell he knows it by that stupid, smug smirk on his face.

"What the fuck do you want, Strider?" I grumble, trying to look anywhere except him despite his being so close that he's all I _can_ see.

He gives me the most intense theatric look possible and says, "I've come to get a kiss from a knight."

I know he's just kidding. This is all just some huge joke to him, and I can't stand that. It's not fair that he doesn't seem to even notice how much he gets under my skin. He shouldn't get to just play around with this shit like it's just a game. I know it's crazy, and I know it'll probably be a catastrophe in the end, but you know what? I'm tired of playing games.

I put my hand to the back of his head, lifting it up closer to me. I lean down a tad bit and capture his lips. Somehow, I find that he's kissing me back. In the back of my mind, I acknowledge that he still probably thinks this is all just for fun, and that I should probably stop and tell him to stop leading me on like this. I should push his scrawny ass right onto the floor and call him out on all of his bull shit. But... He _is _kissing back. I know that this will make it even worse in the long run, but I just go with it and kiss him some more.

Don't misunderstand- this is absolutely nothing like in the movies. Despite claiming to get all the bitches, I can tell he's probably never even kissed anyone before. Not like I have much room to talk. All in all, it's awkward at best. Our noses keep bumping into each other, and neither of us really seems to know what to do with our hands. It's by no means perfect, but it's still way better doing it in real life than watching it on a screen or reading it in a book.

When I pull back, he's got a dazed look of shock on his face. _It's just an act_, I remind myself.

He chuckles nervously. "Well, damn. I didn't think you would actually kiss me. I thought you were gonna push me off you and maybe kick me in the face and definitely yell at me- plenty of yelling. But, um, I mean since when did you even do what I say, and why the fuck even did you do that, I mean we both know that you fucking hate me so why even would you kiss me. This isn't even funny or ironic or anything. You don't even like me the same I way I- shit. You know what I'm just gonna leave now before I fuck up even more"

He starts to get up, but I'm still processing all of the shit he just spouted out. "The same way you- what?"

"Nothing. It's not even fucking important."

"No," I pout. "I want to know, and you're not going anywhere until you tell me." With that, I clamp my arms down over him so that he can't move.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"It is important, so fucking say it."

"Come off it, Karkat. This shit is just too much for you to comprehend."

I give him my best "death glare", as it's been dubbed by most everyone.

"Ugh. Fine. You already fucking hate me anyways, so why not, I guess. I like you, in case you hadn't been able to figure that out from me kissing you back even though it was super obvious you were just leading me on-" I stop listening at this point. Me leading him on?

"Shut up." I cut him off.

He looks like he's expecting me to knock the shit out of him. Even worse, he looks like he'd let me if I did. I find myself just kind of staring at him trying to figure my shit out. I decide that shit can be sorted later. For now, I'll just kiss this obnoxious asshole I've got pinned in my lap. Gog _knows _he's the hugest dick in the multiverse, but my emotions don't seem to quite understand that. Besides, since when was romance supposed to make any fucking sense anyways?


	6. And The Blood Runs Stale

**Hello, strangers. I have another chapter for ya. :) This one takes place a couple years after they win the game and all that good stuff. So, yeah.**

**Special people who deserve glomps and digital cookies are MimiKeehl-Jeevas (Guest) and julixjui**

**MimiKeehl-Jeevas: Woah. That is weird. O.o**

**Moving on!**

Dave's POV

Blood.

Blood is fucking everywhere. I'm in a sea of blood and the dead bodies of everyone I've ever cared about. The bodies begin to come to life. They're grabbing me, pulling me underneath the endless waves of red mixed with occasional rainbow colors. They want me to die. They hate me. Why couldn't I save them. Damn it. It was my fucking job to keep everybody safe. I'm the fucking knight, and I let them down. They're all dead. They want me dead too. Even though I wholeheartedly agree with them, I find self preservation kicking in and demanding I fight back.

Blood splashes up into my face. All I can see is red. I'm drowning. My lungs are screaming from the effort of holding my breath. Yet, still they drag me further and further down. Eventually, I just can't hold my breath any more and I take a big gulp of the coppery taste in my mouth. It burns it's way down my throat like a white hot rod.

Pain.

Suddenly, the world is on fire. Fire and blood. I'm burning and drowning all at the same time. I'm crying and screaming, begging anyone who could be listening to help me. But then I realize that the previoiusly animated corpses aren't purposefully moving anymore. They're floating back to the surface without me, rubbing against me as they go. The blood sizzles against my skin.

I let out one last, agonizing scream-

"Dave?"

-I'm falling into an abyss-

"Dave, wake up."

-The world is shaking-

"Dave!"

A new, sharp pain across my face brings me back to reality. I jolt awake, slamming my head against something hard. Someone yelps out in pain.

"Karkat?" I ask, opening an eye.

"No shit. Who the fuck else would it be?" He's trying to act normal, but I can tell from his half assed, barely there insults.

"Was it that horrorterror again?" he asks, probably already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," I mumble.

"Do you want to talk about it or whatever?" I can tell from his voice alone that even though he wants to help, he's not too keen on the idea of talking about it.

"Nah, man. It's cool."

"Okay," he says.

After a few moments of silence, he wraps his arms around me and scooches closer.

I turn my head around at an awkward angle so I can see his face. "What're you doin'?"

In the partially moonlit room, I can see the beginnings of a blush appear on is face. "Well, I never have any horrorterrors when we're cuddling..."

I smirk. "Does there really have to be a reason for cuddles, Kitkat?"

He huffs in that adorable way of his. "Shut up before I change my mind and make your ass sleep on the couch." With that he holds me a little closer, making it clear that no matter what he says, he'll never let me go.

I give him a quick peck on the lips before cuddling the shit out of the fucker.

**So, this is pretty short. :/**


	7. I Wanna Hide The Truth

**Holy fuck. I feel like it's been forever since I updated this, and I am so sorry. -_-"**

**Anywho! Special people who deserve glomps and digital cookies: TheDyingStory, kiwistickers, and julixjui. Y'all motherfuckers just step right up to claim your prize. CX**

Karkat's POV

I grumble unhappily to the lanky clown of a troll with me. Gog knows why, but once again, I had allowed him to persuade me to come to another one of these get together things that John threw every year. Every year, I'd only really know a handful of people, and the rest would be John's friends or John's friend's friends or Eridan. Every year, I would return home entirely exhausted by a catastrophic day of endless misery and bickering amongst ourselves. And every fucking year, John's "best bro", Dave Strider, would be there.

The fact that he shows up every gogdamn year baffles me considering the fact that he claims that he's too cool for Egbert all the time. I only ever really run into the guy at these little reunions John insists on. He says he's really into "sick beats and irony", but he's proved on multiple occasions that he doesn't have a single fucking clue what irony even is, and his music sucks ass regardless of what he says.

He is your typical douchebag through and through. His very presence is absolutely infuriating to me, but I think the worst part about the dickwad is that he forces me to like him- and not just a little bit either. I have to force myself to get angry with him just to remind myself that this guy is a fucking asshole and would only screw me over even if we got together.

So, here I am at a park on a chilly fall day with my best friend and moirail, Gamzee, waiting for the others to show up. The others come in twos and threes mostly: Rose and Kanaya; John and Dave; Terezi and Vriska; Aradia, Sollux, and Feferi. Don't misunderstand- plenty of other people are arriving. I just don't give enough fucks to actually list them all. What's important is that within half an hour of our arrival, the park was filled with sixteen obnoxious teenagers.

The prying eyes of parents are clearly waiting for us to vandalize something so they can call the cops. One or two look entirely willing to call the cops without us actually doing anything wrong. I see one younger parent staring at me in particular. I flip them the bird and stand a little ways away from the crowd. Maybe this way I won't be associated with these morons.

As I watch them have all have their obnoxious reunions, something or _someone _sharply jabs me in the back. I whirl around, reaching to the sickles I keep with me at all times, entirely ready to cut a bitch. Of course, it's just Strider being an insufferable douchebag as per norm.

"What the fuck are you doing, you incompetent piece of shit?" I snarl out, still half tempted to cut a bitch.

"I am challenging you to a completely ironic, all out battle to the death." He says with his usual masquerade of stoicism. Now that he's got my attention, I see he's holding a long, semi-sturdy stick the way people in the movies hold swords. He's gotta be kidding me.

"Shall you meet my challenge?" He raises a single eyebrow. He must have practiced that in the mirror for hours, because there's just no fucking way he could do that otherwise.

Even though I wanted to kill the fucker a couple of minutes, I find myself hesitating now. John says this guy's older brother is a fucking ninja, and that he's training Dave. Of course that could be John trying to get one over me. For that matter, it could be that Strider was bull shitting the kid. None the less, I'm kinda nervous to fight the guy.

"You chicken, Karkles?" he teases, smirking.

I speak without thinking. "Fuck no. Give me a stick; I'll whip your ass with it until you're crying for your mommy!"

"My mommy is dead." He deadpans, casually. He tosses me a stick fairly similar to the one he's got.

I brandish it with ease, trying to bait away the thoughts of how much of a disgusting piece of shit I am for saying that. I fucking _knew _his parents were dead. Why the fuck did I say that? Gog, I am such a gogawful, moronic-

"Yo, dude. We gonna fight or what? Cuz if you're too afraid of this amazing Strider skill I'd understand... that you're a fucking pussy."

His voice brings me out of my self-hatred so I can breathe. I glare at him, and lunge with the stick, feeling like a two-sweep old idiot.

I very quickly learn that the hype around his fighting skills is pure bull shit. He's always on the offense, not seeming to understand the fact that sometimes it's best to give a little ground and go on defense. All of his blows are extremely predictable. His feigns are obvious. His stance is too narrow. He holds his stick in an awkward way that makes it difficult for him to ever accomplish much more than a poke with it.

He shows no signs of upset. I, on the other hand, am actually kind of embarrassed for him. It's easy to see he's struggling, and that's with me going relatively easy on him. If his brother actually is a ninja, he's obviously not helping Dave at all. This guy wouldn't stand a chance against John for crying out loud!

I put him out of his misery, "killing" him with a swift stab to the stomach. He drops to the ground in the most fake, goofy show I've ever seen. He spins around, falls on his ass, and clutches his "wound". I cross my arms and roll my eyes, doing my best to resist the urge to laugh at his antics.

Seriously, he's barely on even ground with a fucking wriggler. Someday, this guy's gonna get raped and killed in an allie all alone. The fucker wouldn't stand a chance. With this in mind, I find myself demanding that he get up so that I can show him a little about fighting.

I go over my mental check list of shit he was doing wrong before beginning my tirade. "So first things first: spread your legs some. You can't-"

"Ooh sounds kinky." he interrupts me, smirking. Clearly, he's proud of himself.

"Strider, kindly shut the fuck up before I make you." I'm not going to lose my patience with this asswipe right now. This is fucking serious and he needs to get this shit straight or he's gonna end up in a ditch somewhere, dead.

He moves his feet apart some, though I can tell he wants to say something to that. I don't let him make whatever smartass remark he has in mind, immediately launching back into fixing his technique a little bit. "Your arms too; they don't need to be so close together."

He moves them apart, but he does it too much, leaving his torso entirely undefended. I make a snap decision that we're not going to play that whole game where he goes from one extreme to the other to piss me off. I step right up to him and put his arms in a fairly reasonable position.

I look up into his eyes- scratch that, his glasses. I fucking hate those things. Suddenly, I get an extreme urge to take them off. It's not the first time I've wanted to do something like that, but this is the first time that I wanted to take them off gently rather than slap them off his face. I fight down the temptation to steal his glasses, glancing away.

Instead of doing something as relatively reasonable as taking off his glasses, I find myself doing something _way _more hazardous. I kiss him. I stop as soon as I realize how much of an idiot I'm being. "Fuckfuckfuck I'm so sorry. That was so fucking stupid. I don't even know what I was doing. Fu-"

Before I can apologize again, his lips are on mine, and we're kissing. I hear some hollering and whistling from our gogawful group of dumbasses. I start to pull away because of them, but Dave holds me in place. Gog knows I'm blushing like a fire truck by the time he removes his lips from mine.

I always wanted to hide the truth about my feelings for this asshole, but maybe, just maybe, that's not necessary anymore.


	8. I Wanna Shelter You

**Boybz, XXshadowXXnightXX, sweetstitch, siobhanyavanna are my special peoplle who deserve glomps and digital cookies.**

**School will be starting up for me again in about a week. I'm not sure how my updates will be affected, if at all. Just thought I should tell y'all. Just in case. (:**

Dave's POV

I roam the halls during my lunch hour at school, bored as fuck. I could go chat up some of the popular kids in the cafeteria, but if I'm being entirely honest, I've never much cared for their type if you know what I mean. I'd rather just chill with my small handful of totally sweet friends and ignore everyone else. However, none of them are in my lunch hour, so I'm stuck purposelessly walking around the halls of hell school.

I pass some people I recognize. I nod at them as I go, not letting my gaze linger on any one of them for too long. Wouldn't want them to think I actually feel like talking to them, right? I stuff my earbuds in and crank my sick beats up all the way up for the sake of irony. Well... that and to block out the talking and obnoxious laughter of the other halldwellers.

I spend most of my lunch period doing exactly that and nothing else. I fully plan to continue this way until I have to head off to Algebra 2. At least, that's what I plan until a particularly loud ruckus interrupts the loud rap music funneling into my ears.

I pull my earbuds out and look in the direction of four trolls. Three taller, clearly stronger trolls- two guys, one girl -are crowded around a smaller troll -one guy- on the floor who's trying to get up and fight. The guy on the ground looks livid as hell. If the others would stop being a bunch of shitheads and holding him down, I can easily imagine the guy putting in his best effort to fuck all three of them up.

As it is, the biggest, most muscular of the trio is pinning him to the floor with one foot while the others kick him in the face and sides, taunting him. I'm pretty shocked that no teachers have come to the kid's rescue. It's not like any of this is quiet, quite the opposite really. Somebody will probably come help this guy soon enough, right? I look around, but conveniently enough, no one else is here.

I consider just walking away, despite his obvious distress. None of them have noticed me. I could turn around, pretend I saw nothing, not get my ass pounded to pieces... and feel like absolute shit for it later. Who am I kidding? I don't give enough shits about what people think to be especially bothered by it if people see I had my ass handed to me. On the other hand, if I don't help this guy now, I'm probably going to guilt trip myself about it for my entire life, even if no one else ever knows.

With this in mind, I creep up behind the trio as quietly as I can. I stand right behind the tough guy shoving his foot in the kid's back. I kick him in the crouch as hard as I can. With a little shriek/gasp he falls to his knees, freeing the smaller troll. The kid looks to me, eyes wide like he's looking at a maniac. What the fuck is this guy's deal?

"Run!" I shout, urging him to go. I turn to the two that remain standing, ready to hold them off so the kid can get away.

He gets the message... kind of. As he's running past, he grabs my wrist and yanks me after him, making it easy for the other two to take chase. Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye reveals that he's giving me a perfect wtf glare. I keep pace with his even run by sprinting almost the entire time. This little fucker is _fast_. I have to wonder how even those guys got ahold of him in the first place.

I look behind us for a second, trusting his steel tight grip on my wrist to keep me from running into a wall. The guy is still chasing us from behind, but the girl has disappeared. After zigzagging through parts of the school I'd never even gone through before, we manage to lose the guy too.

We silently agree to take a minute to catch our breath. I slide to the ground back against the wall while he plops his ass down on the ground, propping himself up with his hands behind his back. I notice, with embarassment, that the kid I just saved is breathing way easier than me. My lungs are in the process of convincing me that breathing is a near impossible feat and should be appreciated when possible.

"Are you out of your gogdamned mind?!" The kid yells as loud as he dares given that the other guys might still be on our tail. "Those fuckers could have kicked your ass to the moon! Wait, no- they're _still _going to kick your ass to the moon when they get their hands on you. Why the fuck even would you that, you gogdamned moron?"

Still wheezing a bit, I answer his totally misplaced insults with my usual coolness. "I saw a damsel in distress. What kind of awful knight would I be to not save you from those assholes?"

"I was not "in distress", and I'm definitely not a fucking damsel. More than anything, you're not a knight. Even if you were a knight, only a really stupid knight would cut into shit that isn't even any of his fucking business." He scowls up at me.

"Dude, that is literally all knights do in stories- butt in and kick ass."

"Yeah, but only because they want the girl." He looks so exasperated right now. It's actually kind of adorable. "What you did was entirely pointless, and now I'm gonna have you getting your ass kicked on my conscious. What even was the point of that?"

I look him over and shrug. I try to be nonchalant about the entire thing, but it's kind of hard to pretend you don't give a shit after something like this. "I wanted to help you."

He looks me over doubtfully. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who needs help."

"Well, I guess we're just gonna have to help each other." I stuff one of my earbuds back in my ear and put the other in his ear.

I stand up, crouched over, and offer him a hand up. After a moment of uncertainty, he takes my hand.

**Cutting it off here before I get too carried away with this shit. XD**


	9. Beast Inside There's Nowhere We Can Hide

**Wow. I'm fucking exhausted and school has been kicking my ass. Sorry it took me so damn long to get to this. I'm not gonna try and say it will get better after this, cuz I honest to goodness don't know. -_-"**

**On a brighter note, here are my special people who deserve glomps and digital cookies: MimiKeehl-Jeevas (guest), megan (guest), moonrealm, and DGtnsl.**

**MimiKeehl-Jeevas: Heehee I could probably turn just about any one of these chapters into a long-ass fic, but I won't be taking on any new projects for a while now... I've got this, my other multichapter, an idea for a oneshot, and superfluous requests to continue one of my oneshots. I dunno. I'll keep it in mind, but don't be too excited or anyfin cuz I might forget until after this story is entirely finished and I'm just looking through the reviews with a goofy smile on my face and- "wtf is this? someone saying to continue something? woah. O_O"**

**megan: Imma get right to that! Please start squealing... NOW!**

Dave's POV

I hear the monstrosity chasing me from behind. I skid along the kitchen floor in my socks, desperately trying to control my direction while still maintaining my break neck speed. I can hear it's claws scraping along the wooden floor. A quick glance confirms my fears: it's gaining on me. I go faster, pushing off of counters when neccesary.

I leap into the living room, stumbling somewhat at the difference in flooring. Luckily, the carpet allows for me to control where I'm going better while moving at a faster pace Unluckily, the carpet gives the beast the same advantage.

"You can't run forever, Strider- and you sure as hell can't hide!" it growls from behind. Fuck. It's gaining on me. I should've gotten into track so that I might stand a chance in running away from this fucker. As it is, I can hear it's heavy, even breathing from behind me. I turn to look at the creature once more, but I trip over the rug and go tumbling to the ground.

In less than a second, it's on top of me and has me pinned to the ground, helpless. Mercilessly, he tickles me until I am gasping for breath and begging him to stop between giggles. "Please- please- fuck- stop-"

Reluctantly, my boyfriend, Karkat, relents so that I can actually fucking breathe. "You... You asshole..." I manage after a minute of enjoying the luxury that is oxygen in my lungs.

"What the fuck were you expecting? I mean really- what kind of moronic piece of shit steals another person's cookie and doesn't expect some sort of punishment?"

"Dude, you stole mine last time. I've been planning my totally righteous revenge ever since."

"I have literally no fucks to give about your revenge. _You stole my motherfucking cookie._"

"Oh yeah?" I push him to the ground and sit on top of him so that he can't move. I whisper in his ear. "Do you have any fucks to give about my revenge now?"

He struggles to get out from underneath me and fails. "Gog fucking damn it. Don't you fucking dare!"

"And what if I do?" I lightly run my fore-finger over the pad on the bottom of his left paw.

He squeals a bit in the most adorable way. "Fuck!" He tries once more to kick and flail enough so that he can get away, but I simply move from sitting on his stomach to sitting on his knees. This is much better for tickling anyways. He sits up, trying to push me off to no avail.

He abruptly stops trying to push me away and looks at me with the best pouty face he can manage. "Dave,"

"No," I close my eyes, refusing to fall into this trap again.

"Dave," he wraps his arms around my torso. Damn it. I blindly attack his paw-feet, aiming for the center of the pads.

His shrill laughter pierces the room. He goes back to physically trying to stop me, pulling at my arms. Once he comes to the realization this isn't helping him any, he tickles my sides. Before I know it, he's taken the upper hand again, leaving me breathless and pleading for a truce. "Please, pl-please, K- Karkat! W-We can make more cookies please-please-fuck-please!"

He stops tickling me, him entirely on top of me. The only thing I can move is my head and my fingers, but that's not going to help anything on the account of his feet being well out of my reach.

"I'm gonna need way more than some gogdamned cookies to make up for this hoovebeast shit."

"Anything you want. You got it."

He's quiet, contemplative for a moment. "Anything?"

"Absolutely." I nod, entirely willing to give in to anything to make him stop the torturous tickling.

"What about... A million kisses?"

I grin and awkwardly lift my head up and kiss him on the nose (it's all I can reach from this position). "Only if I can get a million kisses back."

"I think I could work with that," he says, smiling some. He moves so that he's sitting in my lap. He points a finger in my face. "But you're still an asshole."

I sit up and plce my hands on his hips. I kiss him once, then twice. "But I'm your asshole." I grin.

"Yeah, shut up and kiss me again."

So, I did.

**So, this is short and late. But, maybe I'll be able to type another chapter today, so...? Hopefully? Let's see how much shit I can accomplish before my Ma demands I come downstairs, eh?**


	10. No Matter What We Breed

**So. I'm back. Whatcha gonna do 'bout it, bitch? (hopefully nothing. /)-(\ hopefully.)**

**Special people who deserve glomps and digital cookies are Xx-EmO-OuTcAsT-xX and That Dude The Reads.**

Karkat's POV

Dave and I have joked about us having some little shit of our own to watch after ever since we became matesprits two sweeps ago, and, thinking about it, I'm positive Dave mentioned it several times before we were together. But it's only ever been that- a joke. The punchline would always be how shitty we'd be as lusi/parents. After all, between my cussing, Dave's assholery, my assholery, and Dave's cussing, that poor little wriggler would come out as some gogawful mindfuck with the sole purpose of proving how fucking awful Dave and I are at doing anything useful at all.

The problem is... The idea has grown on me a lot over the sweeps. I really want a family. Someday, when I'm an _old_, grumpy asshole, I want to have some grandkids and shit. I want to have a little shit of my own to watch after. I want the chance to become the overprotective bulgelicker of a lusus I had. I want to be that dickwad of a parent who waves goodbye to their kid every day when they're getting on the bus to go to school- even when they're seventeen and demanding independence. I want to be that lusus who makes their ward watch embarassing, gushy movies. I want to be _that parent._

But let's be honest here. All those jokes we've made over the sweeps- none of it was wrong. If we had a little shit of our own to watch after, we'd probably kill it. Or even worse- it'd go exactly the way we always said it would and that kid would come out a mental mindfuck and it would be all my fault.

Arms snake their way around my waist and pick me up ot of my spinny chair. I make my protests very clear to the intruder- Dave, naturally. He sits down in my seat and puts me in his lap in an around his ass, awkward manner. (We're both nine going on ten sweeps old, yet somehow he's maintained that awkward lankiness you expect to see in seven sweep olds.)

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Who the fuck says anything's wrong? Nothing's wrong."

"You should tell your face that, cuz you looked like you were contemplating the exact uncoolness of your lack of irony- which is pretty fucking bad."

"It's not even that big of a deal."

"What was this small deal about then?"

I open up my grubtop, just so I have an excuse to not look him in the eye. "Just drop it, you insufferable douchebag."

He closes the grubtop. "Come on, Karkat. You look like some fucker just came in and pissed on you parade, taunted you, then shat on your parade. Now what the fuck is it?"

"It's stupid."

"I don't care. It's bothering you, so it's bothering me. Tell me please?"

I groan and bury my face in my hands. I grumble as low as I can.

"What?"

I speak up a tad bit more.

"Don't play games with me."

"I was just thinking about wrigglers, okay? Jegus fuck."

"What about them?"

Hesitantly, I say it. "I want one."

He raises an eyebrow. "Dude, I thought you hated kids because they're all snot-faced little shits."

"They are snot-faced little shits. Just forget about it."

"No. Since when did you of all people want to be a daddy?"

"I don't know? Gog, you're such a pushy dick."

"But you love my dick."

I punch his arm. "Shut the fuck up!"

He laughs. "I don't see why we couldn't."

"Couldn't what?"

"Have a kid."

"Are you out of your gogdamned mind? Our kid would be so fucked up."

"No way, man. Our kid would be the epitome of irony and awesomeness."

"You're full of shit."

"No way. I know we joke a lot about how shitty we'd be as parents, but come on. How bad could we possibly be?"

"Really bad. Really, *really* bad."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Ugh, you're such an ass."

"Thanks, babe."

"Fuck you."

"Not right now- we're having a serious conversation about us as parents."

I face palm. "Come off it. Maybe you'd be a... okay parent- but I definitely wouldn't be."

"What makes you so sure?"

I shrug. "I just am."

"I'm pretty sure too; pretty sure that we're going to get a wriggler."

"What? No, we can't do that."

"We can, and we will. We are gonna have the most awesome family ever. We're gonna take the most obnoxiously stereotypical family pictures. We're gonna be fucking awesome parents- especially you."

"But what if we aren't?"

"But what if we are?" With a kiss, he unofficially wins the argument.

We're going to adopt a grub, and you know what? I'm _so_ going to be that parent.

**This is kind of on the short side, but here it is for you anyways. Take it. Cherish it forever.**


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